For You
by beyondeternal
Summary: After the war, Hermione felt lost. Tortured by her past and broken by the present, can a certain redhead help her find her way?


She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that after seven years of battle and fear it was finally over. Voldemort was dead. She would no longer have to fear for her best friend's life. She would no longer have to spend her evenings researching ways to defeat a basically immortal wizard who spend his days plotting ways to murder everyone she loved. It was over.

For years she'd imagined how she'd be feeling. She'd always figured this would be the happiest moment of her life, that she would feel renewed and relieved, and ready to face everything the future had to throw at her. Instead, she was just tired.

The past few months had been like an overrated rollercoaster ride- with significantly fewer ups than downs. The man she'd always thought she loved left her and his best friend to fend for themselves, yet for some bizarre reason she ended up in his arms –_ kissing him-_only weeks later. She was tortured, not because she'd done anything wrong, but merely because she existed.

She felt empty, without purpose. All these years, standing by Harry in his fight was all that had mattered. It had come before school, before family and before every emotion that might have held her back. But now, all of that was over. She was free to do whatever she wanted. She was free to chase her dreams. But with this newfound freedom came a shocking realization. She didn't know what she wanted. She had no idea what her dreams were, or what she was looking for in life.

Hermione realized that this wasn't the happiest moment of her life. This moment, which was supposed to be filled with joy, was actually quite the opposite. It was the moment she realized she had no idea who she actually was.

As she walked down the empty hallway leading up to Gryffindor Tower, she saw the floor was still littered with debris from that night's battle. There would be a lot of rebuilding to do, she realized. Like every aspect of the world she'd come to belong to, Hogwarts would never truly be the same. It'd always carry the scars of war.

Pondering all these things, she made her way towards the familiar portrait hole. The Fat Lady had abandoned her post for the night, and as Hermione climbed into the common room she saw the fire was lit.

This made her frown. As far as she knew, every one was down in the Great Hall. Despite the many losses they'd suffered that night, everyone had been keen on staying together and celebrating the end of the war.

She made her way further into the common room. As she made her way over to the fire place the person who was seated- hunched over, with his head in his hands- on one of the comfortable arm chairs stirred.

'Hey' Hermione whispered, as she sat down on the floor by the fire, next to the chair, 'Are you ok?'

Fred nodded, 'Yeah,' he answered, his voice hoarse, 'I guess I am.'

As they sat in silence for a while, both looking into the flames, Hermione thought back to what happened earlier that night. They'd been fighting in one of the corridors, when a wall collapsed. It almost hit Fred. It almost crushed him. George's shield was only up just in time. A few seconds later and they wouldn't have been sitting here. Everything would've been different.

'I guess it's really over,' Fred said softly.

'Yeah,' Hermione replied, looking up at him, 'Feels strange really. I don't know whether I should be laughing or crying.'

'I know what you mean,' Fred replied.

Hermione smiled at him, 'What,' she exclaimed in a slightly mocking tone, 'Fred Weasley, the prankster, considering something other than laughter? I'm shocked!'

Fred grinned at her, 'What' he exclaimed, copying her tone of voice, 'Hermione Granger, the bookworm, making a joke? Count me equally shocked!'

Hermione's smile faded as she looked into the flames again, 'I'm more than just a bookworm you know. Just like you're more than just a prankster.'

'I know,' Fred whispered at her softly, his voice taking on a more serious tone, 'You're a lot more than that.'

Hermione woke up on one of the arm chairs in the middle of the night, covered in a thin layer of sweat and panting, with the image of a cackling Bellatrix still on her mind. She found herself covered by a blanket and Fred was nowhere to be found. She wondered if she imagined their conversation. She didn't know Fred that well, he had always been one of the twins to her, just as she knew she'd always merely been his brother's friend to her.

Sure, they were friendly, but they'd never really had any kind of meaningful conversation. Until last night. For some reason their shallow words held a deeper meaning for her. She'd said she was more than a bookworm, and he told her he knew. All throughout her life, her friends and her family had used that sole word to describe her, as if it summed up every part of her personality perfectly. She'd never let it on, but it hurt her. It hurt how they were apparently forgot about all her other traits- or apparently didn't see that she had any. But Fred had told her- implicitly- that he saw. For some reason, this exclamation by this boy she didn't _really _know meant more to her than she'd ever imagined.

Tearing herself away from her thoughts, she got out of the armchair. She figured it was time to get up and face the music.

She made her way out of the common room, and walked down to the Great Hall. As she got closer to the heart of the castle, the sounds of people having breakfast and laughter filled her ears. It was strange, hearing these normal sounds that she'd heard for years in a place that was no longer the home she'd come to love, but had turned into a battlefield. Blood covered the cold stone floor that she'd walked on every day for years. The walls and doors that she knew so well were all damaged, blasted into tiny pieces by curses that killed the ones she loved as well as the ones she had been fighting.

As she walked into a room filled with happiness, all she wanted to do was cry. For now, she swallowed everything she was feeling. She forced her heart to stay in one piece just a little longer, and made her way towards a group of familiar redheads all seated at Gryffindor table.

''Mione!' Harry exclaimed, being the first to look away from his food and see her walk up to them, 'We were wondering where you went all night.'

'We all crashed her,' Ginny said, smiling at her, as she waved her hand at the array of mattresses, blankets and pillows lining the walls of the Great Hall.

Hermione sat down in between Percy and Ron and grabbed a piece of toast. She forced herself to smile at her friends, 'I decided to go up to the common room for a bit. Spend the night somewhere familiar.'

She picked at her breakfast as her friends continued their previous conversation all around her. She wasn't hungry really.

'You ok?' Ron said as he grabbed her hand underneath the table.

'I'm fine,' she answered quietly, as she removed her hand from his, 'just a little tired that's all.'

Ron frowned at her, ''Mione after what happened yesterday, I… I assumed-'

Hermione looked at him. She doubted she could ever love Ron the way he wanted her to. But after all this time, didn't she have somewhat of an obligation to at least try?

'You're right,' she said, as she looked into his eyes and smiled at him, 'You assumed right.'

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, 'I love you, Ron.'


End file.
